Me, Myself and Memories

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  Noreen 1:12 pm on April 9, 2020 Permalink  

  Boon Lake – Part 8 

  Farming in 1968 treated us well.  Prices were good at the sales barn, the chickens kept us in egg money and we were keeping our head above water.

  We were getting ready for a baby in the mid part of July of that year.  I was feeling good.  Carrie was sleeping in a big girl bed that sister-in-law from Hector had shared with us.  Hmm . . . that memory bounced across decades.  Carrie’s daughter Megan had that as her big girl bed.

  As soon as public school was out in Hector for the summer break of 1968, we had extras move in as Orlin’s nephews, Craig and Frank, loved to stay with us.  Orlin put them to work.  Four extra hands helped with a lot of chores and fetching.  I was pregnant keeping up with my chores, baking and making meals for hungry boys that had bottomless pits for stomachs.  Good times all around.

  The first part of July Craig went home to Hector and Frank decided to stay.  Frank never got tired of the farm work, where Craig was ready to go back to the town life.  With Orlin’s mother now being a widow and retired from being the head cook at the Hector school, she enjoyed when Carrie and I would come in and take her on some errands.  Esther never drove.  She had a friend that lived in Redwood Falls that she wanted to visit.  Mrs. Conners sold Tri-Chem oil fabric paints.  Esther incorporated the painting with her love of crocheting.  It was a great July 4th day that we decided on.  No huge celebrations as there was hay to cut and side-rake on the farm.  Orlin and Frank were going to be busy.  I had left a picnic lunch for them as I knew noon would bring hunger pains.  We had a good visit with Mrs. Conners and Esther had made her purchases.  As the three of us gals decided to head home, Esther wanted to treat us to a stop at the Hardee’s in Redwood Falls.  Carrie was all about that.  As we left Hardee’s my shoe caught on a crack in the sidewalk and I caught myself before I hit the concrete and only came away with a scrape on the knee.  It was quite the jar.  As we got closer to Hector, I realized that I was in labor.  It was the 4th of July and not the mid point as we had been banking on.  I didn’t drop Esther off in Hector, she came right to Boon Lake with me.  By the time we got home, of course, it was right at chores time.  I called over to Mom and Dad’s.  Dad came over to start milking with Frank, Esther stayed with Carrie. Orlin and I headed to the Hutchinson hospital.  

  Kevin Michael Schafer made it the best 4th of July ever.  Though a bit early, Kevin did tip the scales at 8 plus lbs.  His torso was long and his legs were long.  Kevin wasn’t a chubby newborn, but he had the most important attributes . . . ten toes, ten fingers and a good set of lungs.  I was able to go home after three days and Kevin, having come almost two weeks early, needed to stay under care at the hospital.  Those several extra days gave us a chance to tidy up what was needed when Kevin could come home.  The day that we went to get Kevin, Frank had Carrie in the car before either Orlin and me had left the house.  Those first days of having a new baby in the house, if Frank was in the house, I knew where his first stop was.  Frank loved to hold the tiny feet in his hands.  I will always remember that tenderness of that thirteen-year-old young man. He couldn’t believe how tiny Kevin’s feet were.  Frank holding Carrie on his lap would make sure she had baby time.  It was a sweet summer.   

  —– to be continued.

  I did got for a walk today in my winter coat.  Dennis thought it was too raw out.  There were winds that clocked 26 to 30 mph.  But . . . I needed to have that walk.  Today is Thursday.  Monday morning, I had gone to visit a friend to deliver a quilt to her that she had started.  Her time was short as cancer doesn’t hold back.  It was earmarked for her oldest granddaughter.  That Monday night the quilt was hand delivered . . . from a loving grandmother to her granddaughter.  This morning that family had to handle how they will begin and how to go on after the grandmother passed.  Yup.  I needed to take a walk in the brisk raw air.

   
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  Noreen 2:54 pm on April 8, 2020 Permalink  

  Fleet and Farm Trips 

  Dennis was off for his monthly visit to the VA clinic in our town.  INR, aka: checks on Warfarin to make sure the clotting if cut or injured is on a safe level.  

  I headed out with my red stocking cap and gloves for my walk.  What a difference from yesterday.  As I was rounding the corner coming home, Dennis was right behind me.

  Over lunch we had a visit in regard to our sump pump situation as it pumps out to the north portion of our lot.  We didn’t have a lot of lineal feet before the neighbor’s drive way area.  That underground drainage never gets a chance to dry out and it appears more like a swamp.  It is becoming evident as the lay of the land is . . . a huge divot.  

  Several trips to our Fleet Farm store.  Dennis is now working on taking off the exterior attachment when the water pumps up and out of the perimeter of the tile around the house to the underground tile.  A black hard rubber hose will be attached at the house taking the water out to the curb.  Of course nothing can be bought that works from the get go.  The lengths are 25 feet and it will take several to do the trick.  The piece to attach two of the lengths is taking some time to file down to make the fit work.  Now . . . why wouldn’t they have the correct diameter to match the hoses that they carry. Dennis has the steel wool brush on the grinder and is taking it slow.  Many stops to check, check.  

  Worst case scenario once that portion of the yard is dried out, some bags of garden soil will bring it back up to grade.

  In between time I tackled a pair of jeans to shorten.  It always amazes me how heavy denim is.  It doesn’t like to be corralled and bunched up.  A sewing needle that looks a bit like a mini spear to puncture the harsh fabric finish had to be dug out.

  The hotdish from last night is out of the refrig to take the edge off of the cold to oven temperature.  Leftovers are priceless! 

  The Lena Fern Peonies and the Fairfax tulips don’t know what to make of these changes from day to day.  Should they grow . . . should they take cover until sunny days come one after another.   

  It sure doesn’t feel like Easter week.  Sad times.

   
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  Noreen 2:10 pm on April 7, 2020 Permalink  

  Boon Lake – Part 7 

  Boon Lake Township seemed to be a great fit.  It seemed like our forever home.

  In the spring of 1967, I had a job opportunity.  Boon Lake Township needed a local assessor.  And . . . I was an assessor!  Dad was on the Boon Lake Township board and he came over to sell me on it.  I would be taking my directions from the county office in Olivia.  I would be responsible to contacting all land owners in the township via driving up to each farmstead.  At that time there was a Personal Property tax as well as Real Estate taxes.  There were forms that queried each land owner.  The questions asked pertained to the number of head of livestock, machinery and also some for household goods. 

  For several months of work that included a vehicle to cover 36 sections, 640 acres each, that comprised Boon Lake Township, the pay was $200.00.  I jumped at it.  The work was in the spring of the year.  Orlin and I would hustle to get the morning chores done and then Carrie, in her plastic seat, and I hit the trails.  It wasn’t like the farmers were taken by surprise.  This yearly quest had been going on for years . . . it was just a new face with the old and usual riggers.  Carrie and I did a great job.  At the end of the work, I had $200.00 extra for groceries and we had enough Cheerios on the floor of the car to feed several orphans.  Looking back, that two month ditty turned into a profession that lasted me to the age of 65 when I retired as the Watonwan County Assessor.  Who would have guessed!

  Thanksgiving of 1967 we had news for the families that we would be having a baby in 1968.  I felt physically great.  No morning sickness.  Chores was handled as usual.  The cows had produced calves in the late fall of 1967 and we had a few that Orlin could take to the sales barn in Hutchinson.  We fed back much of the oats, corn and hay crop from the growing season into our animals.  We had gotten better with the farrowing of pigs, saving each and every one of the wiggly pink ones.  We were getting the hang of this farming.  Dad always kidded Orlin that he was too thin.  It was actually all lean muscle mass.   

  In the early days of 1968, with pride, we shipped a runt Holstein calf that had bulked up extremely well. Before Carrie was born, my teeth went seriously bad.  I gave birth to my first child with front teeth missing.  Dad had given us a runt of a calf to feed up and grow up.  That calf was earmarked to finish paying off the dentist.  The dentist in Buffalo Lake did a great job of fitting me with a full top plate of teeth.  We had been paying off a few dollars all along and sometimes got behind.  About the time the calf was going to market, the remaining balance on the dentist bill was turned over to a collection agency.  It was with pride and relief when we could get that cleared up.  Whew!

  —– to be continued.

  Today is April 7th and a great day.  I couldn’t resist going and doing a bit of raking.  If I made the piles, Dennis took the silage fork to beef up his burning ring.   I had noticed a huge amount of flies among some of the leaves.  It looked like there had been something wet put on the leaves.  Hmm.  With my neck brace on I had not looked up very high.  Dennis  realized that our huge Maple tree had a run of sap running down the huge trunk.  In all the years, we had never seen anything like it.   

  Dennis has made a tuna hotdish for supper.  Sweet!

   
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  Noreen 4:50 pm on April 6, 2020 Permalink  

  Huge Day 

  I have had such a huge day that brought a lot of good fuzzy good feelings.  I have been left speechless!  Catch you all tomorrow.

   
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  Noreen 2:44 pm on April 5, 2020 Permalink  

  Boon Lake – Part 6 

  What started as frightening in January of 1966 was feeling as if we had always been on the farm in Boon Lake Township. 

  There was no aspect of farming that we had not experienced, tackled and survived.  Though our equipment was not huge, we took care of the 160 acres.  Orlin would get through the morning milking and it was either field work or feed grinding.  Chicken, hogs, sheep and cows . . . they all had different recipes for the concentrate that was added to ear corn and some oats.

  There were some things that we could not have counted on.  When I had the chicken chores and the milkers washed, Carrie and I headed for the house.  There was laundry and once a week bread baking.  The north kitchen window faced north to take in pretty much the farm yard in total.  The east kitchen window took in the pasture.  One great day, I had a batch of bread going.  I could hear the feed mill on the south side of the barn as that is where the auger would empty into the window of the feed room, adjacent to the silo.  Carrie in the highchair and me up to my elbows in flour.  There would be fresh bread for supper.  The Hutchinson radio station was on most times if I was in the house.

  After a bit, I thought I should have seen Orlin take the mill to the granary. I went up to the north window and looked out.  What I saw made me sick.  Orlin was bent over the mill at the power take-off shaft using his free arm, waving his red bandanna. I didn’t do anything but rush out the back door.  Orlin was bent over using his arm as a brace against the hitch as his overall jacket was twisted into the take-off shaft, wanting to take his arm with.  His arm had caused enough pressure to shear off the pin.  I shut off the tractor and ran back into the house and grabbed the biggest butcher knife we had.  I had to slice and dice the jacket to relieve the pressure on his arm.

  What a close call.  Orlin’s arm didn’t have any feeling in it for the rest of the day as the twisted cloth of the jacket had cut off blood supply from nerves, tendons and his elbow joint.  I felt horrible, Orlin felt horrible that he had been careless not paying attention to where the jacket bottom was flapping.  Carrie was feeling horrible as her Cheerios cup was empty.  What a close call.  Accidents with power take-off shafts could fill volumes.  All three of us felt horrible but Orlin and I felt relief that made our legs weak.  We went into Hutch later that week.  We needed to buy a new chores jacket.  The new one was shorter with elastic at the sides and not the free swinging type that had the huge patch pocket on the bottom.  Yup . . . good old memories of farming “101.”

  —— to be continued.

  About all that I have gotten done on this 5th day of April is tune up the sewing studio from last weeks stitching marathon.

   
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  Noreen 4:26 pm on April 4, 2020 Permalink  

  Good Deed Done 

  Today when I shut off the sewing machine it was with heartfelt thanks that I finished a good deed done.  The family request to finish a started project came from a Speedy Delivery last Monday forenoon.  

  The printed feed sack that had been from decades ago is now a 52″ x 62″ cozy lap robe for cuddling.  I had told Dennis this morning that my quest for the day was to finish this quilt from A to Z.  The “Z” included using the last of the blocks to put them into a pillow.  Not enough blocks to make the lap quilt larger, but too many to dismiss.

  

  When the lights were shut off in the sewing studio, the first thing I did was put my walking shoes on and go for my walk.  Square the shoulders, move from side to side and get the kinks out from perhaps too many hours at the machine.  What can I say . . . started projects are hard to leave alone when the recipient of this quilt has plans to pass it along to a grandchild while she still can.

  The walk has been had.  A shower has been had.  Thank goodness there is a hearty amount of the scalloped potato and ham dish reheating in the oven for supper.

  By the way: the belt buckles that didn’t want to stay in the wall cabinet.  There is a product that I had purchased at Michael’s for crafting . . . Zots.  Little adhesive dots that when layered one onto another or perhaps another to adhere the belt buckle to the back of the shelf that they are perched on . . . time will tell.  I know they work as I had used some when putting a Christmas decoration up a few years ago.  When I took the decoration off of the wall, the Zots plus some of the wall’s finish came with it.  We determined that the belt buckle case was really inadequate for the honking large size that some of these buckles are.  As I said, time will tell.

   
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  Noreen 3:19 pm on April 3, 2020 Permalink  

  Boon Lake – Part 5 

  The farming in Boon Lake was going well.  Were we getting rich?  I had no idea.  There was always food on the table.  We butchered our own beef, pork and poultry.  The fruit cellar in the basement was filled to the brim as the first winter began in 1966.  

  Orlin had scored countless dozens of quart and pint fruit jars at the sales barn in Hutchinson.  There was one Sears chest freezer in the furnace room.  We canned crates of fruit into sauces.  When Ginsberg’s grocery in Hector had crates of pears, peaches, plums, and apricots in, and on sale, Orlin’s mom let us know and we were there. The hardest part was peeling pears.  Those skins were tough.  Peaches could be scalded and they slipped right off.  Sugar was bought in 50 lb. bags.  I was getting money each week by the fall of 1966 from the eggs that the egg fellow picked up.  That was the grocery money.  Sweet.  Tomatoes were scalded and precooked and packed tight into quart jars.  The enameled canner held eight quart jars at a time.  With Mom’s instructions, I knew how long each batch had to be in boiling water.  Cold-packing was the in thing.  Pressure cookers were more than my family dealt with.  When each of the two part lids did their thing, the audible ping of each jar as it cooled was priceless.

  Orlin’s nephew, Frank, loved to spend time with us.  During the summer of 1966, he was a usual and man could he eat.  He was also very willing to pitch in.  We had a lot of grass that needed mowing.  At first he was quite frisky with  speed but soon learned . . . what Orlin said needed to be adhered to.  Frank was also good entertainment for Carrie. 

  Winter came and it didn’t scare us.  Dad had built his own snowblower that attached to the Allis tractor via a power take-off shaft.  When Dad had their yard blown out, he made the three mile drive to our farm and took care of the snow in short order.  We had a huge loop of a driveway from the initial run off of the tar road.  Carrie was able to stand at the window sill and watch grandpa.  She was also just tall enough to bite down on the window sills.  Little teeth marks in the varnish.  If the snow was too deep and Dad had not gotten to our yard as yet, the cans of fresh milk, one at a time, were put on the aluminium scoop shovel.  Orlin pulled the make-shift sled and I made sure it didn’t topple off the the shovel.  It was a good thing both Orlin and I had toned up.  Many trips and a few into the house to check on Carrie to see how her Cheerios were holding out.  God willing, Carrie was entertained enough watching us through various windows that she didn’t get into trouble.  Having had her one year birthday in October of 1966, she was curious and a daredevil in trying to climb.  Doors going upstairs or down into the back entry were secured.  Whatever she decided to do was contained on one level.  The bottom portion of our gas cooking range was storage of pots and pans.  Those could well be found anywhere when I got back in the house.  

  Winter months were set with the same schedules each day.  The dairy barn, pig barn and chicken barn were top priority.  The possibility of getting bored . . . not!

  —— to be continued.

  “There rose such a clatter, I jumped from my bed to see what was the matter . . . ”  Yup, that is how I awoke this morning.  I thought the entire house was coming apart.  Dennis had gotten up earlier than usual and had decided to tidy up his bed.  What the heck!  It is small quarters in his bedroom and he usually doesn’t venture into bed making.  He knew that I was really weary last night as I had put in a strong day on the quilt that is in the sewing studio.  Yup, I was dead to the world. 

  Dennis had gotten behind his bed which is pushed up against the west wall of the room.  He brushed against the cabinet that is on the west wall that holds 20 of the Heston belt buckles that he has been collecting since 1975.  The slender latch was pushed open by his sleeve and there were belt buckles flying off and out of the narrow shelves.  Heavy metal buckles hitting the laminate flooring . . . it had sounded as if the storm that had been predicted for early Friday morning was ensuing.  That was the start of a Friday morning on Stauffer Avenue.  It’s almost time to start supper and the buckles have been picked up and are still on Dennis’ bed.  The problem . . . he doesn’t trust himself to get back between the bed and wall while reading the continuation of years that are on the buckles that need to be returned to their rightful places.  I’m chuckling.  I’ll take care of them before he is ready for bed.

  My hope is that the weekend is enjoyed, relaxing can be done by doing things that were put off during the work week . . . for those that still have a job to go to.  For the rest of you that are housebound . . . text me. I will deliver one ole cowboy that will fill your day with unexpected events.

   
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  Noreen 3:22 pm on April 2, 2020 Permalink  

  Tedious 

  Some tasks with quilting are tedious. I am on track with what I had set out for myself for the schedule.  After sewing on a border to the pieced top . . . the top, batting and backing are secure on my sewing table.  I believe after I dig out my safety pins to begin securing all layers together may well be all the energy and time I will invest into the project today.  Dennis helped out by folding two loads of laundry.  We are either the dirtiest people or the cleanest people on Stauffer Avenue . . . the jury is still out.

  It is a good thing I took my walk after lunch as it is nasty wet out this afternoon.  The temperature states it is 60 degrees.  It sure doesn’t feel like it.  Having a sewing studio in the basement is great.  This time of the year the comfort level when doing tedious things can be chilly.  It’s not cool enough to have the furnace take the chill off of the fingers and I don’t care for blowing air from a heater on me . . . suck it up.  

  Dennis took one for the team and took entryway rugs and kitty blankets to the laundromat this afternoon as I headed out for my walk.   A bag of quarters, a small fruit jar of laundry detergent and hours of waiting brings about a good thing.  My walk keeps my joints and tendons oiled up for continued mobility.  Swinging my arms as I walk pumps a lot of good blood to the brain . . . and my brain needs every bit of help I can give it.  

  If I heard the weather forecast, I could have swore I heard words like rain, sleet and road surface issues.  I sure hope it passes us by.  A full day of warm sunshine would be welcomed.

   
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  Noreen 3:08 pm on April 1, 2020 Permalink  

  Boon Lake – Part 4 

  We are farmers in Boon Lake Township!  I am not sure, but looking back we must have had more than 24 hours in each day! 

  There was a bit of a pasture across the driveway to the southeast.  It had fencing around it with a bit of a hut.  Maybe calves were summered over in that area.  The fence was taken down just enough to get the Oliver 70 and the plow in that area and we had us a garden spot.  Man oh man it took work to get the sod broken up with a piece of a drag pulled behind.  When a farm is bought out and those owners move to town, lots of goodies are left behind.

  Can the scent of newly turned soil carry to lengths?  Most be!  Orlin’s brother and his family from Wilmer arrived shortly and the plan was to make the garden bigger so Elroy could have a potato patch.  Elroy’s had four children and everyone kicked in and that soil became mellow, just right for planting a garden.  For our part, we were in mind for several tomato plants, cucumbers, radishes, etc.  It went from plan A to plan Z in a heartbeat.  For the most part it all worked out.  Elroy’s residential lot in Wilmer was small and who doesn’t want to see a family enjoy fresh produce from the gardens.  I was home all week and I made sure our pantry and my canning jars were filled before a weekend came along.  First come . . . first served.

  It was quite often that a meal during the weekend went from Orlin and I to a sit-down of six . . . can’t forget number seven . . . infant Carrie.  It would be quite the jumble to work in our usual farm chores whether there were extras around to have a meal or not.  Livestock gets on a schedule that has nothing to do with meal times and the livestock won out as that is where the cash came from to run the farm.  

  It was amazing how a routine settles in on a farm.  Dad was still needed for advice but the day-to-day labor was on Orlin and I and . . . we handled it.  When the sows farrowed, our bed times were adjusted to be out in the pig barn to make sure all the little piglets were shuffled out of the way of restless sows.  Orlin had done a great job of making wooden farrowing crates out of used lumber.  The sow had enough room to turn around for water and feed, while the wee ones were protected by scooting under the partitions until nursing time for them.  Heat lamps hanging over those protected areas . . . how could they not snuggle up under them.

  We may have missed out on some social things with the Schafer families as most of them were W2 form workers.  Their evening weekend hours were quite different from our’s.  The Holsteins came first.  Orlin’s folks . . . Art and Esther enjoyed coming out on a weekend . . . sitting under the shade trees on the west side of the house and taking everything in.  Art would cross this palms across his broad chest and may catch a snooze.  Esther would have her little plastic ice cream bucket filled with crochet thread and crank out the stitches row by row.  Sweet.

  ——- to be continued.

  Today is April 1, 2020, and I am making good headway on a quilt top.  About three this afternoon, I shut down the sewing studio to ride shotgun as Dennis and I took care of a few errands around town.  Most of them being done at drive-up windows at the utility drop box, the bank’s drive-up and the Lewis Drug drive-up.  It is the new routine.  The lights are on but no one has doors open.  I couldn’t wait to take my walk.  I usually do it in the morning, but I am trying to put in a goodly amount of stitching.  The wind was strong from the south and southeast.  

  I have had one great day!  I look forward to another one tomorrow.

   
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  Noreen 2:24 pm on March 31, 2020 Permalink  

  Boon Lake Township – Part 3 

  In the early portion of 1966 and in short time, we were a well rounded farm.  The cows were milking, the sows were farrowing, and there were lambs under heat lamps.  Bring on the rest of what a farm needs.  

  Carrie was thriving on rice cereal and beginning to get table food.  Orlin and I were weary enough each night to fall in a coma to rest for the next day.  Orlin was 29 and I had just turned 22.  Oh for the stamina of the young.  Orlin’s long time friend Ted Skolberg, with Hector roots, farmed just down the road from us.  It was great moral support.  Sharon and I had been in 4-H together in years past.

  What’s a farm without chickens!  Orlin boxed off a small portion of the chicken house so we could keep the baby chicks under heat lamps until they were large enough to grow pin feathers to help with body heat.  Mom shared duck eggs from their Mallard ducks, complete with the clucks to sit on the eggs for hatching.  Man, those were nasty clucks.  In one of the small corn cribs, each cluck had their own box with eight to ten duck eggs under them.  I have no idea how Mom knew which of their chickens had cluck tendencies.  I would imagine when it was time to gather eggs, there were a few of those chickens that would peck the hand day after day that was gathering eggs.  Each cluck had a piece of twine on loosely tied to one of their legs.  They could get out of the box and get to water and feed before allowing the eggs to cool off.  Was the twine necessary . . . I doubt it.  Their focus was sitting on eggs. 

  Orlin scored a grinder mixer from Hoverstein’s for a whopping $75.00.  It’s first stop was Dad’s as it needed some welding and a once over for a few parts.  It sure saved Orlin’s day and time when we could put it out from the double corn crib rather than being on the road back and forth from Mom and Dad’s.  We were becoming more self sufficient . . . down on the farm.  

  The auction house was now being visited to purchase some machinery for the spring field work.  There was a lot of advice that Orlin took from Dad in regard to preparing fields and where and what needed to be planted and who to contact for seed.  There was eighty acres with the farmstead and pasture and eighty acres across the county road to make up the 160 acres.  Our first year of planting was done with a fair amount of rust being worn off of used equipment.  A used Oliver 70 was our first tractor.  It could handle a four bottom plow.  We were able to fill out what we needed and also borrowing from Dad and Ted to get the crop in.  Then came the wait and see.  Imagine watching beans coming up in a garden and expand that to a 40 acre track of beans.  Yup wait and see.

  —— to be continued.

  Yup, I have another year under my elastic waist band.

  So where in the heck did 76 year go!  Is it scary when one doesn’t feel one’s age?  It is either optimism or stubbornness.  I believe determination is where it is all at.

  I am taking a break from sewing on the new quilt project.  When My nephew Larry and his wife Jennifer reached out and asked if I would finish a quilt for Jennifer’s mother, how could I not.  Jennifer’s mother, Rita, is ill and her time is short.  Rita would appreciate it if this small quilt could be finished for Rita to give to Larry’s daughter.  The blocks that Rita had cut up were printed feed sacks from Jennifer’s grandmother.  Why not!  

  Dennis’ daughter is a nurse in New Ulm and is working hard shifts with all that is going on.  Like everyone else who works in the health world, she asked if I would sew masks.  Well, in checking things out, not all homemade masks are a good thing. Today Dennis went shopping.  In the parts store he found one box of 50 face masks of the formed pellon.  Dennis announced this afternoon that we are making a trip to Mankato where Sandy lives and deliver the masks.  I am going to make a stop at Hy-Vee for a few things.  Wow!  An actual road date.

  I am having a perfect birthday.  What makes it perfect is that I heard both of my children’s voices.  Priceless.  Not as sweet as being able to touch them with a hug, but it was wonderful.  My Aunt Janet . . . it never fails.  She remembers me each year.  Special!  I am well on my way to the next adventure that my days may bring, while keeping a level head, staying upright and open minded.